End Run
by Queen Boadicea
Summary: This is pt. 1 of the "Humanity" trilogy. After Buffy has sex with Spike, the Scooby gang decide to run circles around the Former Big Bad. Spoilers for season 6
1. Coyote Ugly

Title: End Run (pt. 1 of the "Humanity" trilogy)

Author: Queen Boadicea

Email: queenboadiceaoftheiceni@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: This belongs to the great and powerful Joss and the usual gang of idi…uh geniuses

Pairing: W/T, An/X

Distribution: 

Feedback: Do your worst—it can't compare to my worst ;)

[thoughts] [TELEPATHIC THOUGHTS]

Buffy sat up with a jolt. Where the hell was she? She looked around in disorientation, the feeling that generally greets us when we wake up in a strange place. There was rubble all around her, signs of a building collapse [No! Was it Glory?!] and then she glanced down at herself.

Oh. God.

She was naked. Next to the naked body of—

SPIKE?!!?!!

The Big Bad was curled up next to her looking almost like an ang—NO. She clamped down sternly on that idea at once. But she couldn't help staring at his face, trying to avoid scanning the other parts of him. In sleep, his face had a curious look of sweetness that she never saw on it when awake. He looked almost innocent. Almost unconsciously, she found herself drawing closer when his eyes abruptly opened. There was none of the yawning, stretching, shifting or other signs of gradual return to awareness you got from the living. He was just suddenly awake and she had the sneaking suspicion that he'd been so all along and somehow monitoring her movements. His lips curled up in that sardonic smirk she'd grown to know and hate so well and he drawled, "Morning, luv."

She scrabbled away from him, nearly tripping over her feet, while he watched her completely at ease and obviously amused at her embarrasment. Gritting her teeth in an all-too-familiar feeling of irritation, she started scanning the ruins for her clothes. 

"What's your hurry, pet? I was thinking maybe you'd be in the mood for early morning afters."

She was determined to ignore him. No way was she letting him get under her skin. [There'd been enough of that, her conscience sneered.] Hopefully, her avoidance, her silence and her desperate attempt to get away from him would be signs that she wanted nothing more to do with him.

"What, no good morning kiss? No hugs? You were eager enough last night."

"That was last night. Now I'm going."

"Oh, I see how it is. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am. Didn't figure you for the love-'em-and-leave-'em type, Slayer."

No more conversation, she silently screamed. That's what drew you into this mess in the first place. She was fully dressed by this time and glad that he was still naked. Unless he was planning on running into the street like that, it would give her a good head start on him. Perhaps he sensed her intention, because he swiftly moved towards her and grabbed her around the waist. 

"Come on, luv, I was hoping for a repeat performance. I know you loved it and I'm ready for some more. Vampire stamina and all that."

With a quick twist, she wrenched herself out of his grip and knocked him to the floor. "What were you hoping for from me, Spike? Vows of love? Weeping confessions of being yours? Forget it. I had love. You don't compare. On a scale of one to ten, you don't even rate a minus fifty."

A brief flicker of—what? frustration, hurt, anger—crossed Spike's face before it settled into the familiar lines of bitter sarcasm. "You had no complaints last night. It's a good thing this neighborhood is relatively deserted otherwise the neighbors might have called the police."

Secretly, Buffy was glad that Spike had settled on his usual meanness. It made it easier to hate him. Easier to walk away from him.

She turned towards the entrance and Spike made one last ditch attempt to restrain her. "What am I supposed to do here? It's dawn outside. I can't leave for hours."

[That's a relief.] Then something he said caught her attention.

Dawn. Dawn. Shit, she'd forgotten about Dawn! 

Buffy felt a wave of guilt come crashing down on her. How could she? How could she have forgotten about her little sister to be rolling around with Spike, of all the people? She hadn't been this irresponsible since—well, since she'd been seeing Angel in secret, since she'd just blown out of town when she'd sent him to hell. She'd thrown aside all thoughts about her friends, her mother, her responsibilities as a Slayer just to wallow in self-pity in another town. She had to get home right away and see about Dawn. She could deal with the Spike problem later.

Spike watched as a myriad of emotions played across Buffy's face. Somehow he knew she'd forgotten all about him, though he couldn't figure out what she was thinking about now. He hated that he played so little part in her feelings that she could just dismiss him so easily. "So have you changed your mind, _luv?_" He put emphasis on that word, knowing how much it would needle her. 

He felt a stab of hurt and rage when she glanced at him blankly and replied, "You'll just have to handle it yourself, Spanky."

On the way home, Buffy grimly debated within her the night's events. She needed to talk to Willow. Spike was able to hit her. He'd said that Willow had brought her back _wrong;_ that was the most important thing she had to convey. She didn't have to tell her about the sex part, did she? 

[Sure you do] her conscience replied. 

[Why?] she argued back. 

[Because if you don't, he will. He'll pick the worst, most embarrassing moment and spill it in front of your friends.] 

However, part of her knew—well, was almost certain—that Spike wouldn't do such a thing. He had a weird code of honor. He wasn't a welsher, for one thing. He insisted on paying his debts. 

[Yeah, but he was also a pool hustler, cardsharp, thief and moocher.] He'd also implied that his sexual episode with her was just a twisted take on his old Slayer-killing activities. It was just another way of "bagging" a Slayer. No, she couldn't trust him to keep quiet about it. She'd have to tell her friends and play up the part about his pummeling her and hope they didn't freak out too much about the wild humping that had followed it.

Willow woke up slowly, stretching softly in the early morning sunlight. She glanced over at the blonde head of Tara resting on the pillow beside her. She thought over the events of the past few days: Tara's argument with her that she was using too much magic, her subsequent use of magic to erase Tara's memory of the altercation. Willow felt a pang of remorse. It was too much like what Glory had done, tampering with Tara's mind. But the red-headed girl had hated the fight. It reminded her of the argument that had sent Tara fleeing into the fair. Glory had found her and Willow had been helpless to prevent the mad Hellgod from sucking the mind out of her golden-haired lover. Willow was terrified of anything that might separate them again, leaving Tara to the mercy of any of the various demonic forces that lived on the Hellmouth.

Trying to ignore the whispering of her conscience that this was all just a feeble justification, Willow wondered what had woken her. There had been something, some noise… Bolting up, she startled Tara into waking.

"Whuh—what is it, sweetie?" Tara yawned.

"I thought I heard the door opening." Tara glanced at the clock and blinked in surprise. It was 5:25 a.m., much too early for anyone to be stirring. She watched Willow climb out of bed and hurriedly throw on a robe. Tara shrugged and decided to get out of bed, as long as she was awake.

Coming downstairs, the sleepy girls were surprised to see a tusselled and decidedly stern-faced Slayer standing motionless at the foot of the stairs. Buffy glanced up at them and said, "We need to talk."

After making sure that Dawn was still asleep, Buffy told them everything. She'd had a long hard talk with herself while walking home. She had made a mistake she had no intention of repeating, but she wasn't certain Spike would leave it at that. She hoped her friends would be supportive. Still, it was hard to listen to the shocked exclamations of the two witches when they heard the news.

"Buffy, are you SURE that's what happened? I mean, maybe it was some sort of a spell or a dream or…"

"Are you kidding? She's nuts!" Tara blurted out.

"Look, guys, I know. Call it temporary insanity or a momentary loss or reason, which I realize is saying the same thing. But could we focus on the important part? Spike was able to HIT me. He says that Willow brought me back WRONG. I don't know what that could mean but if he's able to hit me whenever he likes, then I'm in trouble. Maybe Dawn is, too."

Willow's eyes widened and a stricken look appeared on her face. "He said you were wrong? The spell was interrupted by those demons while I was casting it and the urn of Osiris broken but I didn't realize…oh, Buffy, I'm so sorry. All this time, I thought maybe you were just having trouble adjusting to being, well, alive again and you said I'd yanked you out of Heaven but I thought that you'd feel better if we were there to support you and you'd get back in the swing of things by patrolling and taking care of Dawn. I didn't think…"

Buffy interrupted her friend's anguished babbling. "Willow, don't blame yourself. You couldn't have prepared for those demons and you wanted what was best for me. You thought I was stuck in some Hell dimension and you wanted to rescue me. What's done is done. What we have to do now is figure out just why Spike is able to use me as a punching bag without having his chip zap him."

"If Spike can only hit demons without being hurt and not humans, that means Buffy must be less than human, somehow." Seeing the other two girls staring at her in shock, Tara faltered. "I'm not saying Buffy is a demon or anything. Only she's not quite human anymore so Spike…," she trailed off unhappily.

"Tara, that's a horrible thing to say," Willow gasped. 

"No, Wills, what if she's right? Maybe that's why this world hasn't felt quite…right to me since I got back," Buffy said sadly.

"Buffy, we're not going to accept that. We need to find out what's different about you. But we can't do it with Spike hanging around. We have to get rid of him while we find an answer to this problem."

"Fine. But I don't want to make him angry. Spike may still be toothless when it comes to other humans, but he's still capable of causing trouble when he's riled. So what suggestions do you have for him?

"Well, you said he's trapped in that collapsed building, right?"

"Yep, he's stuck there for the whole day."

"Good, that gives us time to plan."

Willow quickly got on the phone and left a message on the Magic Box's answering machine. Luckily, Xander would be off work and they could meet there later. Buffy said she'd tell them about the sexual episode herself. By mutual agreement, they agreed to keep that part of the night's escapades a secret from Dawn.

Meeting at the Magic Box, Buffy braced herself for the worst. She'd expected understanding from Willow (after all, she'd slept with a werewolf), but Anya and Xander were a whole other kettle of fish. Xander had once accused her of sleeping with Spike and she'd hotly denied it. Only the timely appearance of the Buffybot had put his accusations to rest. He'd always been resentful of her affair with Angel and time hadn't really made him more sympathetic about her relationship with _that_ particular vampire. Anya wasn't really a friend but she had been a demon for over eleven centuries. There was no telling how she'd react.

"You had sex with SPIKE?!? I can't believe what I'm hearing. What were you thinking? With SPIKE?!?"

"Xander, you're not helping," Willow muttered.

"It's not surprising, really. Spike is handsome in a sleazy, bad boy way and he does have a well-toned physique not to mention over one-hundred-twenty years of experience," Anya offhandedly said.

"Anya, I can't believe you're defending this…wait, you think Spike is handsome?" Xander glared at her.

"Well, you were the one who said he had a compact, well-muscled body!" Anya shot back.

"People, could we focus? I need to find out why Spike is suddenly able to knock me into walls and keep me out of his grip at the same time." Buffy could understand why the news was such a bombshell but she needed help not another episode of the Xander-and-Anya show.

"That's right. The last thing we need is more Spike-gripping…or whatever," Xander feebly responded. "Buffy, what should we do?"

"I've learned that the one thing Spike hates more than being laughed at is being ignored. I'm going to treat this…sex thing…as if it never happened. You guys are going to do the same."

"How will that help?"

"As long as it was a secret, Spike could always use the threat of it to force me to…meet him for another session. But if you guys know but pretend you don't know, he has no power over me. If he does decide to spill the beans, you won't be taken by surprise." 

"Ooooooookay, I think I'm following your logic, Buffster. But Spike is able to read emotions. How do we pull off this little fakefest?"

Xander had a valid point. Spike could read people's feelings like books, sense through his keen vampiric sense of smell when someone was afraid, angry or aroused. It made him a master manipulator when it came to using people to his advantage.

"I could cook up a spell that could mask our feelings from him," Willow volunteered.

"You can do that?"

"Sure. Just as there are truth spells that make it impossible for people to lie, so there are spells that can hide your feelings when you're trying to create deceptions. All we need are some special herbs, a small incantation with all our names in it and a hiding place for the herb packet."

"Then we should throw up the de-invite spell to keep him away from me and Dawn," Buffy muttered.

"Won't that make him suspicious? I mean, we're trying to keep him from knowing that we know, right?" Xander pointed out.

"Not if we came up with legitimate reasons for keeping him out. I'm sure we can think of something while we figure out what's….off about Buffy," Tara threw in.

"I don't see why Xander and I have to be involved. I mean, he's after Buffy, not us," Anya mused.

"How can you say that, Anya? Buffy's our friend. That means all of us. If he's after Buffy, sooner or later he'll come sniffing at our door looking for her." Xander couldn't help feeling embarrassed; Anya's insensitivity and her less-than-solid connection to the rest of his friends was continually making itself felt at the worst of times.

"Yes, but if all we have to do is lie, I see no reason why we have to devote ourselves to the rest of it. Buffy's non-humanity is obviously a magical problem. I say, let Willow and Tara deal with it. Specifically, Willow, since it's really her fault."

"Spike's been stealing from the Magic Box, Anya."

There was a moment of stunned silence, then—

"WHAT?!?!" Anya shrieked.

Buffy studied her nails as if the matter were of no consequence to her. "He's been using the sewer entrance underneath the shop to get in and out and steal items from the store's basement." She knew that would get Anya's attention. Even after all the time Xander had spent with the ex-demon, her humanity still seemed to consist of nothing more than the limited subjects of sex and money.

"Oh, that is it! I mean, we take him in, we keep blood for him in our freezers (which is really unsanitary, by the way) and hide him from those Initiative guys and he repays us by stealing? Willow, how do we throw up the de-invite spell here?"

Spike paced impatiently, waiting for the sun to set. After laying about for awhile, he'd decided he might as well get dressed. Buffy wasn't coming back…at least not today. She'd come to him soon enough, he was certain. Once you've had the Spike, nothing else was as good.

[Ah, but did she say she loved you?] He frowned. True, the words had been lacking, but the feeling was there, or it soon would be. [Yeah, that's right, because love ALWAYS follows sex, doesn't it?] He growled low in his throat, the sound echoing around the empty chamber. He loved her, they were too alike not for her to feel the connection. Deny it she might, but she'd enjoyed what she'd done with him and she couldn't turn her back on him now. Once a woman had sex with a man, letting him into her life was practically inevitable. [Sex didn't stop Angel from staking Darla, did it? Sex didn't prevent Drusilla from leaving you for a Chaos demon, did it? Over one hundred years of killing, shagging, draining victims together and she dumps you for a demon who looks like Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer's bastard cousin….]

"SHUT UP!!!" Spike roared. He stopped, embarrassed; it just wouldn't do for the Big Bad to talk to himself like this, to twist himself into knots for a woman and a _mortal_ woman, at that. But you didn't reach one-hundred-twenty-odd years of existence without a little self-awareness. He'd loved passionately in his time, and he'd seen it in others. It never seemed to last, and here the feeling was definitely one-sided. 

Still, the first seed had been planted. Let Buffy try treating him with the same disdain now that they'd shared bodily fluids and he'd soon put her in her place. She'd definitely squirm if he started dropping hints about it in front of her friends. Feeling his confidence soaring again, he started grinning to himself while he pictured the looks on the faces of the Scooby gang if they knew what Buffy and he had been doing all night. [A few choice words in front of them and she'll keep seeing me, just to keep me from telling them.]

He felt a twinge of dissatisfaction at that. Did he really want to coerce her like that, merely to keep him quiet? [It just shows what a loser you are, that you can't entice a girl to come to you willingly.] He groaned aloud at that jeering voice in his head and slumped back down into the wreckage littering the floor. It was going to be a long day.

Buffy knew explaining to Dawn wasn't going to be easy. No, make that lying to Dawn. Actually, it proved easier than she'd thought.

"He HIT you? How could he? That shit!"

"Dawn!"

"Well, if the shoe fits. He IS a shit. And a butthole and a jerk and a wanker and a…"

"All right, Dawn, I get the picture." Privately, Buffy thought that she knew where last term must have originated. Dawn was definitely spending way too much time with Spike if she was picking up his colorful phrases.

"But how can he hit you? I thought he couldn't hit humans without, you know, getting all zapped in the brain."

"It has to do with how I was resurrected. The spell was botched up when those demons broke the urn of Osiris so now I'm…not quite what I was. Willow and Tara are trying to fix the problem. Dawn, I need you to keep Spike out of the house. Willow has already erected the de-invite spell here. I just need you to make sure Spike can't get in, no matter what he says to you. Can you do that?"

"Sure, no way I'm letting him in here after what he did to you. But…Buffy, I don't understand. Why did he hit you in the first place?"

Buffy sighed. She knew this would be the hardest part to explain. The only thing she could do was tell a half-truth.

"Dawn, Spike thinks he's in love with me. Only I don't love him and that leaves him incredibly frustrated. Do you know the stories about guys who trail after girls that don't return their feelings?"

"You mean stalkers?"

Buffy nodded. "That's exactly what Spike is. Even before I…left, he was following me, sneaking into the house, stealing baby pictures of me, some of my clothes and underwear, standing outside of the house for hours, watching me while I slept…"

"Ewwwww, I didn't know that! I mean, I knew he had a crush on you and about the following, but I didn't know he was into that twisted stuff."

"Remember when I accused you of taking my blue cashmere sweater?"

"Buffy, I told you I didn't take….wait, that was HIM?!"

"Oh yeah. I saw some of the stuff he'd taken that night in his crypt when I was zapped unconscious, chained to the wall and he threatened to sic Drusilla on me like a Doberman. He declared his love for me—again. I shot him down—again. I punched him when he tried to grab me and that's when he started hitting me back. He was really thrilled at the fact that he could hit me. It must be his perverted idea of courtship."

"I got blamed for taking that sweater! I am so going to give him a piece of my mind when he shows up here again," Dawn scowled.

"No, Dawn, don't! Look, he's got this weird, sick fixation on me and I have to deal with that. But I don't want him to turn against you. He's been taking good care of you while I was dead this whole summer. I don't want that to stop."

Dawn's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Now you lost me. You want to keep him out of the house but you don't want him to stop taking care of me? How does that work?"

"We're going to be treading a very fine line here. I want him to keep looking out for you but I want to keep him away from me. So you'll find an excuse to keep him out of the house for a few nights while Willow tries to figure out what's happened to me. So you have to pretend to keep liking Spike while keeping him at a distance. It's like when a girl likes a boy but she pretends to be cool just to keep him interested. Got it?"

"No. Why would anyone want to play those kind of mindgames? It seems really lame."

"Dawn, you deceived me on Halloween when you went sneaking around Sunnydale with your friends so you know about telling lies and tricking people. This is just more of the same thing. You don't even have to do it for long. Just long enough for Willow to get a handle on this."

"All right, I get it," Dawn sullenly replied. Geez, Buffy was obviously not going to let her forget about the Halloween incident in a hurry. Like she never got in trouble with a vampire.

"Now Willow has cooked up a spell to keep our feelings hidden from Spike. She's also working on a few other surprises for him."

TBC


	2. Of Bulgur Wheat, Garlic and Beer

Spike lay quietly in his crypt. The sun had finally set and released him. On the way home, he'd half hoped to meet up with Buffy but there'd been no sign of the blonde Slayer. She'd be showing up for patrol anytime now.

But she didn't. He went out, not that he was looking for her, mind; he just wanted some demon butt to kick. Still—no Slayer. He didn't see her the next night either. Or the next. Or the night after that.

Right. She was playing hard to get, avoiding him to show how little she cared. Well, two could play that game. He wasn't going to crawl after her, not like before. He was a man, after all, and she could bloody well come to him when she was feeling the itch.

But Spike wasn't like Angelus. Angelus could stalk a victim patiently for days, months at a time, laying his plans and waiting for them to come to fruition. He'd haunt his targets and then disappear, leading them to believe that he'd tired of the game and had forgotten them. Then, just as they started to relax, he'd thrust himself back into their lives, pushing them to the brink of despair. He'd tormented Drusilla that way for months, driving her to insanity, before he'd finally turned her.

Spike just didn't have that kind of staying power. He could set plans, all right. He could twist people's minds and play with their feelings. He could wait in the bushes for hours just watching Buf…anyone's window. But when it came to waiting patiently for events to align themselves or for people to show, he was as jittery and impatient as a five year old. Buffy wasn't willing to make an appearance? That was fine with him. He'd go barging into her favorite places and force her to talk to him. She wasn't going to ignore him as if he were nothing.

The first place he showed himself was the Magic Box. Sauntering up to the door, he pushed it open and prepared to step inside when he was repelled by an invisible barrier. What the bloody…? "Oy, open up! Let me in!"

Xander appeared, rumpled and frantic. "Hello. This is the Magic Box. We're closed for…oh, it's you, Fangless. What do you want?"

"What's with the barrier, whelp? Since when did you clowns throw this up? You trying to get rid of me or something?"

"Oh, that? Naw, Anya's just getting tired of the way vampires in general just seem to be able to come and go whenever they like. I mean, Willow and Tara are always welcome at our apartment but we don't leave the door opened and unlocked so anyone can walk in, do we?"

"Yeah, that's real nice. So invite me in already."

"Nope, can't do that, sport."

"Why the bleeding hell not?" Spike frowned. Had Buffy told them about their night together? She couldn't have, the whelp would have been furious. When Xander had seen Spike and the Buffybot shagging each other, he'd come over to crypt breathing fire and declared how Spike was just taking advantage of Buffy in a weak moment. He'd thrown Spike up against a pillar and told him that he wasn't Buffy's friend. 

Spike scanned Xander closely. He revealed nothing except impatience and a barely-concealed boredom at the vampire's continued presence.

"We're doing inventory. Anya wants to do some restocking after the Halloween sale and get in some more supplies. Things are going to be topsy-turvy in here for awhile and we've closed the store in the meantime. Guess I forgot to lock the door. What did you want here anyway?"

"Wow, the demon bint's really got you whipped, hasn't she, boy? Not even married yet and already she's got you helping with the housework."

Xander opened his mouth to retort when Anya appeared beside him. "Xander, honey, we need more bulgur wheat."

"Bulgur wheat? What's that doing in the Magic Box? I thought only sandal-wearing, patchouli-scented, ponytail-sporting neo-hippies were into that crap."

"Well, this is California. People here make a big fuss about eating right and all that. I don't know why mortals even bother. No matter how healthily they eat, they're just going to grow old and die."

"Uh, Anya, you might want to remember that you're human now. Join the club."

The ex-demon pouted. "Anyway, we still need more bulgur wheat."

"Honestly, I can't remember the last time anyone even asked for the stuff. How can we be low on it?"

"I don't know, but we are. The crate with the boxes is almost empty."

Xander sighed. "Fine, I'll mark it down on the list of things to order." As if he'd just remembered Spike's presence, he glanced at the peroxide vampire and asked, "Was there anything you wanted, Sparky?"

Spike shuffled his feet and mumbled, "Just wondered if you'd seen the Slayer, is all."

"Nope, she must be out on patrol. See ya." With that, Xander slammed the door in his face. A moment later, the lock clicked shut, the "OPEN" sign was turned to "CLOSED" and all the shades were drawn in the shop.

Spike strode away from the store, inwardly puzzled. Bulgur wheat? That's what he'd been nicking to sprinkle on his blood. He wondered whether Anya had any clue about that. He also realized that, with the de-invite spell up, he couldn't get into the store anymore to steal the stuff. He scowled furiously at the thought and then shrugged. He could always steal some from the local supermarket until they removed the spell. Ah, but bulgur wheat was a specialty item. Only the Magic Box and health food stores stocked it, and small-town Sunnydale was woefully lacking in the latter. He could just go back to eating plain Weetabix. He'd gotten spoiled if he was pining for the good stuff. Funny how that de-invite spell was just put up like that. Had Buffy told them about the thefts?

The thought of Buffy made him walk faster down the street, growling at anybody who so much as looked at him. He was starting to get into a bad mood whenever he thought of the Slayer. He'd have a few things to say to her when next they met.

Xander and Anya peeked out of the window watching the angry vampire disappear down the street. Then they burst out laughing.

"Oh, man, did you see his face when you started talking about the wheat? I thought he was going to choke! It was priceless! We didn't even rehearse that bit!"

"I know, sweetie, but he had it coming. I mean, did he think he could get away with stealing from me without me getting a few digs in? I was once a Vengeance demon, you know."

"Yeah, darling, and that's why I love you."

"Really? You love the fact that I was once a Vengeance demon? Because I was thinking of trying a few vengeance spells again…"

"NO! Anya, that's not what I meant," Xander hastily corrected. The thought of his fiancée resuming vengeance just when they were about to be married gave him the major wiggins. He thought of that dream he had with the First Slayer in it and inwardly shuddered.

"Well, there were a few things I wanted to try on Spike."

"On the peroxide puke? Well, that's different. Tell me more, oh vengeful one."

Spike went to all the usual places on patrol. The cemeteries, the alleyways, he even stopped in at Willy's once or twice. Some of the demons hadn't seen her, others claimed to have met her briefly. It seemed as if he was always missing her by hours or even minutes. She was around—he just couldn't touch her. 

He didn't realize it, but Willow had laid an avoidance spell on Buffy. She'd taken something personal of Spike's—that skull ring he'd given to Buffy when he'd once proposed marriage to her (Buffy had forgotten all about it until Willow asked) —and used it keep Spike at a distance. Thus Buffy was always leaving or exiting a place in plenty of time to avoid the bleached vampire.

Two nights after the incident at the Magic Box, he went to Buffy's house and knocked on the door.

The door swung open to reveal Anya in duck-covered pajamas and a sudden gust of air wafted out the odor of. …GARLIC?!?!

Gagging, Spike staggered back, retching and nearly doubling over from the noxious smell. Christ, it smelled as if they were growing the stuff!

"What are you girls playing at in there?" He glared and moved back at least ten feet from the door, struggling to regain his dignity.

Anya stared at him and then raised a pizza slice to her lips—obviously the source of the offending odor.

"Spike. What do you want?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that? What are YOU doing here? Shouldn't you be shagging with your husband-to-be?" he sneered.

Anya paused to chew and swallow her bite of pizza. "Willow, Tara, Dawn and I are having a slumber party. It's an odd concept that doesn't seem to involve any actual sleeping. They wanted to give me one more night of girls' night out. Or in. Whatever. I thought I'd take the opportunity to plan the wedding and bridal shower and tell them exactly what gifts I want them to buy me. So what brings you here?"

"I'm looking for the Slayer. Have you seen her or not?"

"No, but you could wait here if you want."

"Inside that garlic factory? No thanks."

"Well, you could always lurk outside for her. That's what you're used to doing, anyway, so it shouldn't be anything new for you."

Spike narrowed his eyes slightly. That last remark had seemed just a little too pointed to be innocent. Did Anya know about the new turn his "relationship" with Buffy had taken? How could she be so casual if she did? He decided to try sounding her out.

"So what's she been telling you, eh?"

"What did who tell Anya about what?"

Dawn had suddenly appeared behind Anya. Normally, his sharp sense of smell would have detected her but with the overpowering stench of garlic everywhere, he'd been completely oblivious to her presence. With both girls looking at him, Spike hedged a little.

"If Buffy's been carrying tales to you about me following her, she's just been exaggerating a bit. I've been….concerned about her ever since she's been brought back from the dead, so I've been patrolling with her. Only I haven't seen her around lately and I just wanted to see that she's all right and all." The explanation sounded pathetic even to him but Anya and Dawn seemed to accept it.

"Wow, that's really sweet. I'll tell Buffy that you asked about her when she comes in from patrol."

"Yes, Spike, I'm sure Buffy will be glad to see a renewal of your obsessive interest in her. It must be one of the things she missed when she was dead."

Anya shut the door and Spike was left standing outside an empty doorway…again. Where the devil was she?

Willow and the others had gathered in Buffy's house the next evening. Once again, they'd all ordered out for pizza. With plenty of garlic. Just as a precaution, Willow had hung ropes of garlic in every part of the house. Dawn had complained that she was starting to draw attention in school. She claimed the kids were wrinkling their noses and edging away from her in class. 

"I mean, it's bad enough they're still talking about that 'freakout' I had when I learned I was the Key. The last thing I need for my reputation is to become known as El Stinko."

"Dawn, please. I've explained to you why it's necessary."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's all part of the plan to keep the Blonde Stalker from our doorstep. But I still think it stinks." She sniffed herself in disgust. "Literally."

"Speaking of his lowness…." Willow murmured.

[IS HE NEARBY?]

[YES, HE IS, XANDER. THE VAMPIRE DETECTORS I SET UP HAVE INDICATED THERE'S SOMETHING UNDEAD AND IT'S BEEN LURKING AROUND FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES. IT'S GOT TO BE HIM.]

[THESE THINGS ARE GREAT. WHY DIDN'T WE EVER USE THEM BEFORE?

[WE NEVER THOUGHT OF THEM BEFORE.] Willow glanced at the stone she had around her neck. It looked like an ordinary piece of quartz and was no bigger than a quarter. But whenever a vampire was within thirty feet, it emitted a soft purplish glow. She'd fashioned one for each member of the Scooby gang, though Xander and Dawn insisted on having theirs in bracelets on their wrists.

[TIME TO CONTINUE THE PLAN. READY, GUYS?]

Receiving telepathic confirmations from all the others, Willow carefully opened a window. She wanted to make certain the silent watcher everyone knew was near could hear every word.

Spike stood on the opposite side of the street, carefully hidden in the bushes. Only the slight glow from his cigarettes would give him away and he was sure the others couldn't see it from the house. He carefully scented the air and shuddered again. Damn, he could smell the garlic from here! Since when had the Scoobies become so fond of the damn stuff? When he'd shown up at the Magic Box again during the daytime, he'd found ropes of it hanging from the rafters. He'd reeled back and run to the rear of the store, smoking under the tarp all the way.

"What's with all this smelly crap you've got in there, Anya? First Buffy's house and now here. You thinking of changing professions?" he spat.

"No, the distributor I ordered from made a mistake on their shipping slip. I only ordered one box and they sent ten." She shook her head. "I was thinking of shipping it back—at their expense, of course—but the stuff has really been selling. I even sold some to Buffy. I figured if anyone needs garlic, it's the Slayer. Anyway, it's been flying off the shelves. Maybe the people in this town are finally waking up to the vampire menace."

"Or maybe they've just mistaken this place for a successful business."

"Spike, you're wasting time that I might be spending on customers who will pay me to serve them. Now why are you here? Are you looking for Buffy again?"

"Yeah and I know she's here so no stories about patrolling."

"I wasn't going to tell you a story. Only that she was working out in the back..."

"Hah!"

"…but she left about ten minutes ago."

Spike stared and then he exploded in rage. "What the hell does she think she's doing? She's dodging me, isn't she? Admit it. She told all of you losers, right? That's what this is all about."

"Told us what, Spike? You know, you've been acting very strangely the last few weeks. I thought the relentless stalker routine was kind of cute at first. But now it's no longer attractive. It's just sad and desperate. If you want to win Buffy's heart, maybe you should try the old-fashioned methods. You know—dates, flowers, candy, jewelry. Especially jewelry. Women love that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have paying customers who might actually buy something. Bye."

Spike heard her move to the front of the store to greet customers in the fake-cheery voice Giles had so painstakingly instilled into her. He wanted to march in there and demand to see Buffy. He wanted to start trashing the place. But one step and the overpowering odor of the bulbs assailed his nostrils and he hastily moved back, choking. He'd had to sprint back to his car to avoid a dusty demise.

Now here he was, hiding in the dark, playing the role of the pathetic suitor again. Listening in and trying to get some clue as to the odd behavior of the gang of white hats. Did they or didn't they know about his roll in the hay with the Slayer?

[OK, GUYS. WE'RE ON.]

[WILLOW, I DON'T KNOW ABOUT THIS TELEPATHIC LINK THINGY. IT'S TOO MUCH LIKE WHEN BUFFY WAS ABLE TO READ ALL OUR THOUGHTS.]

[DON'T WORRY, XANDER. YOU CAN'T READ DEEP THOUGHTS AT THIS LEVEL, ONLY SURFACE THOUGHTS AIMED AT EACH OTHER.]

"So, any info about that diamond-stealing demon we're been after?"

"Nope. Well, we can rule out any of Spike's card-playing buddies. They only play for _kittens."_

Snorts of derisive laughter followed this. "What is up with that, guys? I mean, what do they do with them anyway?" Dawn puzzled.

"Eat them." At Dawn's shocked look, Anya elaborated. "Small pets are a nutritious source of protein and very easy to carry. Some demons prefer them to eels and rats and if they fall out of your pocket in a public place, they're much easier to explain away."

Tara raised her eyebrows. "And why would you be knowing this, Anya?" 

"I used to get them as gifts from grateful girls after I granted their vengeance wishes. Sometimes I ate them myself, sometimes I shared them with other demons..."

"All right, enough of this little trip down memory lane," Xander hastily interjected. "Let's not forget, we just had pizzas."

Anya stared dreamily into space. "Imagine that diamond. I wonder if someone stole it for their girlfriend."

"What would any girl do with a diamond that big? Stick it on her mantelpiece? It's not like she could show it off to her friends or sell it. Everybody would know where it came from and then she'd have some 'splainin' to do to the cops," Xander said in a ludicrous Ricky Ricardo accent.

"Well, I wasn't thinking in terms of monetary value…."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my fiancée!"

Ignoring Xander, she continued, "I just thought it would be a sweet show of affection. A sign of how much she meant to the guy. I was telling Spike just this afternoon that maybe he should try something like that for Buffy instead of this endless, whiny trailing after her with nothing to offer but his strong right arm."

Tara smiled shyly. "Don't you like Xander's strong right arm?"

"I like his strong right arm, left arm, his legs, his penis and all other parts in between."

"ANYA!"

Anya blinked. "Oh, right, children present."

"I'm not a child!"

[GUYS, WEREN'T WE TALKING ABOUT SPIKE THE LOSER?] Willow glared.

"So, what were you doing talking to the dyed ditz, Anya?" Xander asked.

"What else? He was asking after Buffy again and he blew a fuse when I told him she wasn't there. Maybe she should just stake him and put him out of our misery."

"C'mon, guys. That's not being entirely fair. I mean, he stayed around all summer after Buffy died and looked after me." 

Tara agreed. "That's true. If he were only in this to impress Buffy with his I'm-a-good-soldier act, why didn't he just blow out of town afterwards?"

"He told me it's because he'd made a promise to take care of me." 

"But he failed at the clinch, didn't he?" Xander stated bitterly.

"Xander!"

[THAT'S IT, XANDER. TURN THE SCREWS. THUMBSCREWS, IF YOU CAN MANAGE IT.] That came from Anya.

"No, it's true, Dawn. If Spike had just kept that Doc guy from bleeding you, Buffy wouldn't have had to throw herself into that portal. She wouldn't have had to die and the Boy Blunder could have skipped out of town for all we cared. I mean, I was able to handle the Doc and I'm only human. When Spike and I went to see him, he knocked Spike down and started to burn the magic tool box we'd gone to fetch. I wrestled Doc and then nailed him to the floor with a broadsword. Hell, if I could manage that, why couldn't Spike stop him?" Xander smiled tightly in triumph. [THAT'LL TEACH HIM TO CALL ME A 'GLORIFIED BRICKLAYER.']

Anya beamed at her husband-to-be. [MY HERO] "That's right, Xander. Willow helped Tara recover her sanity, you knocked Glory through a wall with that wrecking ball. I saved you from being hit by bricks. Just what did Spike do?"

"He stayed."

The others stared at Tara after this quiet interjection. "What do you mean, 'he stayed'?" Anya frowned.

"Think about it. Every other person of major importance who was supposed to stay with Buffy and help her fight left her. Angel, Riley, Giles, her father, her mother..."

"My mother couldn't help it, Tara. She DIED, remember? You could lay that blame at Buffy's door, too, if you wanted," Dawn coldly stated.

"I w-wasn't blaming them or Buffy. I just meant that Spike hung around when he didn't have to, when Buffy wasn't around to be impressed by it. You said as much, Dawn."

"Yeah, but we all stayed, too. And we're far better friends than Spike ever was. Is. And we were fighting the forces of evil long before the Big Badger ever showed. Heck, he was one of them, if you guys recall. If he left, we could do just fine without him."

Anya added, "Even now, he acts as if he can't stand to be around us."

"He calls us names."

"He steals our money."

"He mooched off us for blood and food."

"He makes fun of our fighting skills."

"He makes fun of YOUR fighting skills, Xander."

"Thank you for that note of support, Anya."

Tara couldn't help but protest. "Folks, you're all forgetting something. Spike often tells us about demonic activity around the Hellmouth. He talks to them, hangs out in their haunts and they tell him all about the things they'd never say to us because we're only human." 

"Buffy said Angel used to help her like that," Dawn said softly. There was a moment of silence while the others digested that fact.

"I can't stand Deadboy," Xander muttered.

Dawn gave Xander a significant look. "Is that because you used to have a crush on Buffy?" 

"Ye—NO! He went evil. He killed Jenny Calendar! He tortured Giles!"

Willow sighed. "Xander, you hated Angel before that. You said so. You hated him even before you knew he was a vampire. Face it, it had nothing to do with him going evil."

Xander squirmed under Anya's accusing gaze. "Look, he wasn't known as The Scourge of Europe because of that bad hair, you know. He killed and tortured people for almost two hundred years."

"Xander, I killed and tortured people for over one thousand years. Do you hate me for that?" 

"No, Anya, of course not!"

"So what's the difference?"

"You're female," Willow pointed out bluntly.

"That's not it, Willow!"

"Sure, it is, Xander. Whenever a boy looked at Buffy with the slightest romantic interest, you got all sweaty and jealous. You told Owen not to touch Buffy when he came to pick her up at her house. You were upset at the idea of a foreign exchange student living with Buffy until it turned out to be a girl. Who turned out to be an evil life-sucking mummy."

Xander shot a glare in Willow's direction. [AT LEAST I NEVER HAD ONE-NIGHT STANDS WITH VAMPIRES.] 

Willow squinted at him. [NO, YOU HAD A ONE-NIGHT STAND WITH A PSYCHOTIC SLAYER.]

[XANDER!!!]

[ANYA, IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO!]

Dawn sighed. [EXCUSE ME, COULD WE _PLEASE_ REMEMBER THE FIXATED BLONDE LURKING OUTSIDE?]

Anya looked daggers at Xander and then spoke with exaggerated sweetness. "Well, I think Angel would be a much better choice for Buffy romantically than Spike. He's got that whole male cliché going for him—tall, dark, handsome, muscular. Women really go for that type."

Xander gritted out, "Oh, you mean the dangerous, evil, bad boy, torture-maim-and-kill-your friends type?"

"No, I mean the mysterious, intelligent, charming, owns-an-entire-hotel type! Let's look at what Angel has to offer Buffy over Spike, shall we? Angel has friends, a job, steady income and owns an entire building with heating and proper plumbing. Spike has his leather coat, items he picked up from the city dump and his crypt. That's what he has to give Buffy? A hole in the ground? I think she's had enough of that."

Willow jumped in before things got out of hand. "Let's just face facts. The Summers women don't really have good luck with vampires. Let's not forget how Mrs. Summers let Darla and Dracula into the house."

"Or how Buffy slept with Angel and he got all evil," Xander quickly added.

"Or how Dawn snuck out of the house with her vampire boyfriend."

"Anya, he wasn't my boyfriend! I mean, not really. Not yet. And I didn't know he was a vampire. What's Buffy's excuse?"

"She didn't _know_ Angel would become evil."

"Yeah, like that makes it alright."

Xander protested, "It's not as if any of her other boyfriends were any better. They all failed her big time. And now look what she's stuck with—Spike following her around like Lassie."

The others burst out laughing as the image of Spike bounding up with a wagging tail appeared in Xander's mind.

Willow hooted, "What is it, boy? Is Timmy stuck in a well?"

Xander spoke in a high falsetto, "No, what's that? Dawn's been kidnapped by brain-sucking zombies? Oh, no, what shall I do?"

Dawn smirked. "Guys, it's not funny. Okay, maybe it's a little funny. Besides, she keeps running to Spike about me, not the other way around." She heaved a great sigh. "He's loyal to Buffy and me at any rate. I just wish we had the loyalty without the obsessive romantic mooning."

"Buffy's grown way too dependent on Spike if she thinks of him as a capable babysitter. We can take care of Dawn. 

It'll be good practice for when Xander and I have our own children."

"I'm too old to need babysitters. I'm practically old enough to _be_ a babysitter," Dawn pouted.

Willow mused, "Spike isn't a babysitter. He's more of a guard dog. A vicious, slobbering guard dog."

"And he reserves the slobbering for Buffy. I wouldn't dislike him so much about the love if he weren't such a jerk in so many other ways."

"I think it's because he's lonely." Silence fell over the group again as everybody goggled at Tara. 

Willow was baffled. [WHAT IS THIS, TARA? SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL?]

Tara continued, raising her chin in defiance. "He must be. He keeps hanging around us. We're the closest thing he has to friends. He's alienated the demon community because he beats up on them all the time and I don't think he could make any other real human friends since he can't tell them what he is. But his tough-guy persona that he's adopted for himself doesn't permit himself to show he cares or he likes us because we're human and the Big Bad doesn't cozy up to humans. So he acts mean, rough and nasty. But when's the last time he really tried to hurt any of us? I mean, indirectly."

The gang pondered this. This was true. Spike was truly devoted to Dawn and loyal to them, in his own fashion. 

"Okay, so basically you're saying that Spike is a friend, he just doesn't act friendly," Xander volunteered. Tara nodded, aware that the explanation didn't really satisfy anyone.

"Well, we rescued him from Glory, protected him from the Initiative and forgave him when he betrayed us to Adam. So I'd say the scales are even. He's not nice to us so we don't have to act nice to him. I mean, would it kill him to say 'please' or 'thanks' once in a while instead of 'Hey, losers?' If he continues treating us like shit, he shouldn't be upset when we don't invite him to play our little reindeer games."

When the others stared blankly, Xander explained, "When we brought Buffy back from the dead, Spike accused us of leaving him out of it because Willow was afraid she'd have to kill Buffy and Spike wouldn't let her."

Willow exploded, "He said THAT?!?!? I wasn't afraid of anything Spike would do. When's the last time any of us were afraid of anything he might do? I was afraid Giles might stop me but I didn't tell Spike because I didn't want to hurt his feelings if it didn't work. You know, there are people who always think the worst of people and that's because they're the worst of people. That's what Spike is. He's a git."

"A tosser."

"A wanker."

"Butthole."

"Ponce."

"Shite."

"'Shite' is a Scottish word, Xander."

"Sorry, I thought it sounded good."

"Xander heard it the other night when we were watching Trainspotting on HBO."

"Whatever. Let's just put Blondie out of our minds and try solving this diamond theft deal. I'm sick of talking about him. He's a soulless demon. End of story," Xander yawned.

Anya nodded. "Right. I think we're agreed. Spike is loyal in his extremely limited fashion. We're just not going to be inviting him out for drinks anytime soon." 

"Yeah. It's not like we can expect him to pay—with his own money, anyway," Xander muttered.

The others made vague murmurs at that and then turned back to pouring over the books. Except for the odd comment about various bizarre-looking demons, there was nothing else of significance said. Spike had heard enough. Flicking his cigarette stub down and grinding it out viciously onto the ground, he tore off down the street.

Spike prowled through the streets in a savage temper. He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. They'd dumped on him, the entire lot! Well, that Tara bint had stuck up for him and Dawn had had a few nice things to say. But the rest of those stupid little gang of white hats had taken his bad name and dragged it through the dirt. Even Dawn had torn into him. 

That had hurt the most.

[But they had some good points to make, didn't she? You failed her. You were asked her to protect her and you couldn't even save her from Doc. You think that babysitting makes up for that? You're kidding yourself.] He was really starting to loathe that voice. He'd tried his best, he really had. It wasn't as if the others had done any better in the fight against Glory. But then again, they had. They'd been down on the ground, saving each other's necks, while he was getting tossed off a scaffolding by a creature who didn't even come up to his neck. But the name-calling had been unnecessary. [Theirs or yours?] So he wasn't the friendliest bloke. He was a demon, for Chrissakes! What did they expect from him, niceties like handshakes and table napkins?

[You keep telling Buffy you can change. Change how? Fighting the good fight is what Angel used to do and look how that turned out. You've got to do better somehow.] Better how? It's not like he could get a job. And to top it off, he still didn't know whether they knew about his tumble with the Slayer!

Sod it. Sod them, sod them all. He was what he was and if they didn't like it, they could stick it where the sun didn't shine. But Buffy was pretty much of their opinion. They were her friends and had stood by her through the worst of times. Hell, she was here because of them. If he hated them, how could he accept her? 

He wasn't lonely either. Not for a bunch of relentlessly cheery, self-righteous do-gooding gits whose idea of a good time was sitting in front of the telly watching video rentals and eating popcorn. So what if Buffy, Harmony and Drusilla had all dumped him in a single night? [And how much of a loser do you have to be to get ditched by a slayer, a ditz and a lunatic, anyway?] There was that voice again. That still didn't mean he was lonely.

He was through thinking. The night was still young. He was going to get pissed.

Spike sat in the Bronze nursing his beer—and a sizeable grudge. He couldn't believe it. The Bronze had hosted an incredible one-night-only theme: All bleached blondes sporting leather had their first two drinks on the house. Everywhere he looked, there were bleached blondes in leather. Boys. Girls. Men. Women. Older people who should have known better. And some others who looked damn good in the stuff. Normally, his unusual looks would have had women—and certain men—coming on to him all night. But now he didn't draw more than a cursory glance. There was also not a single glimpse of the one blonde he wanted to see. 

He'd had no luck hustling anyone at pool, either. It was one of his main sources of income but for nights now there hadn't been a single taker. People would take narrow-eyed, suspicious looks at him and then decline. Maybe word was getting around about the blonde leather-clad Englishman who was improbably skilled at playing billiards.

Suddenly, he spotted her. The familiar fall of hair on the girl at the bar, the petite form. It had to be her!

He hastily swigged what was left of his brew and slammed it down on the counter. He strode over to the woman and wrenched her by the arm, not caring if he hurt her. "Where the hell have you ...AAAAAAAARRRGGH!!" Spike let go and clapped his hand to his head as the well-known flair of pain lanced through it. Looking back at the girl, he realized his mistake. It wasn't Buffy. The furious-looking blonde was a complete stranger to him.

"Don't tell me, let me guess. You were about to say, 'Where the hell have you been all my life?' or 'Are your feet tired? Because you've been running through my mind all day.' " The brunette sitting next to her snickered and the blonde turned back to her drink in disgust. 

"I'm…look, I thought you were someone else."

"Well, my sympathies to the girl if that's the way you were going to treat _her._ You nearly wrenched my arm out of my socket, asshole."

"Something the matter, dollface?"

The blonde began rubbing her arm ostentatiously and tears that hadn't been there moments before suddenly welled in her eyes. "Yeah, Bruno. This guy was hitting on me. He hurt my arm."

BRUNO? Uh oh.

Spike turned around slowly to see a human troglodyte with 'muscle-bound jock' written all over him looming over his shoulder. The Neanderthal glared at him and growled, "You hitting on my girl?"

He knew he was going to regret this. But there was no way the Big Bad backed down in front of humans. Even humans the size of meat lockers.

"Sorry, fella. She looked lonely and unsatisfied and I wanted to ask if she and her friend would join me for a little threesome." Spike looked the bruiser up and down and drawled, "You're welcome to watch if you want. I'll bet you could use some pointers."

Bruno roared and threw a punch that Spike easily ducked. Too bad Bruno had friends. Four friends. Each as big as he was.

Spike's vampire reflexes stood him in good stead for awhile. But the urge to throw a punch proved too much for him. He head-butted one of the jocks and promptly reeled from the pain. That's when they caught him and dragged him into the alley.

The beating was short but savage. They were college boys, drunk and loaded for bear. When he fell down, the blows turned into kicks. Spike felt as if he were being stomped by horses with very large hooves. The brutal working-over seemed to last forever but it was really only a matter of minutes. After that, the boys decided they'd doled out enough punishment and sauntered back into the club.

"Come back, you fucking tossers! Is that all you've got? Shit, I'm still standing! My grandmother could hit harder than that! Get your poncy asses back out here!"

The sound of his defiant yelling echoed in the deserted alley. Some girls passing by giggled at the sight of him weaving back and forth. He snarled threateningly at them and they squeaked, hurrying off. He'd show those guys, he'd wait outside for them and then….and then what? Taunt them some more? Make more sexual innuendoes about their girlfriends? Get the crap beaten out of him again? Sod it. He was going home. He'd had enough.

This was all Buffy's fault. He'd gone to the Bronze looking for her and gotten into a bar fight. He should have been out on patrol. Hell, _she_ should have been out on patrol. What kind of game was she playing at, keeping herself scarce like this? Didn't she realize she had a responsibility to save the world from evil? She wasn't supposed to be hiding away like this.

[Avoiding you]. That was the unbidden thought that came to his mind. He couldn't deny it now. She was avoiding him and her friends were helping her. He'd thought she'd come crawling to his bed or at least his side. Instead she'd kept her distance, maintaining her cool, while he endured anxious hours and beatings for her sake. Well, to hell with that!! He was going to have it out with her if he had to drag her out of her house by the hair!

He pounded on the door, not caring if he roused the whole neighborhood. This had gone on far enough, he was a man, not some lovelorn nancyboy letting some girl rip his heart to shreds. He'd show her who was boss, he'd….He straightened up quickly when the door was pulled open to reveal a flushed Willow and Tara.

"Spike, what are you doing here? It's almost two in the morning," Willow whispered.

"Sod that! Besides, you two don't look as if you've been sleeping." He leered at them, taking in their robe-clad forms. Tara blushed and clutched her terry robe closer. Willow glared coldly at him. "Well, at least some of us are getting laid. If you had been, you wouldn't be bothering us, would you?"

The blonde vampire goggled at her. Was that _Willow_ talking to him like that? She never spoke that way about sex. Especially sex with her girlfriend. Rallying himself, he launched back into the attack.

"Look, I don't care what you two carpet munchers were doing. Where's the Slayer? And don't give me any crap about her being on patrol! I've been all over this soddin' town and no one's seen her. So either you're hiding her…."

"Or you just haven't been looking in the right bars, huh, Spike?"

Spike whirled around. The beating he'd gotten must have been more severe than he'd imagined. He hadn't heard or sensed her at all. 

The object of all his dreams and nightmares stared at the bruised vampire swaying on her doorstep with cool disdain. 

"Gee, Spike, you look worse than usual. What's the matter? Got caught cheating at kitty poker again?"

He shook his head and peered closer at her. She looked the same but something was…odd about her. He was picking up a pulse, heartbeat and all the other signs of life but there was none of the angry, tense awkwardness that she'd been showing him lately. There wasn't even the awful sadness that had clung to her like a cloak for days after she'd been brought back. She looked like the old confident Buffy, the one who'd never dream of sleeping with him.

"Where the hell have you been? There's evil afoot in Sunnydale and you're slacking on the job."

"NO, _I'm_ on the job. You're evidently getting into bar fights. Or are you going to tell me that you got those bruises battling the forces of darkness?"

He pulled himself up, ignoring the giggles from the two avidly listening girls behind him. "As a matter of fact, yeah. I saw two demons trying to sacrifice a virgin. Fended them off, I did. She was bloody grateful, too. Practically threw herself at me." That was a pretty feeble lie, if he did say so himself. But there was no way he was going to let them know he'd been beaten up by college boys, of all the things.

"Really? Is that why you stink of booze and have trash clinging to your clothes? Boy, virgins must be getting less discriminating these days if you're the kind that looks good to them."

Willow and Tara let out snorts of laughter as Buffy walked past him. Unable to bear it any longer, he grabbed at her arm and snarled, "Just a minute, Slayer. You and I have unfinished business."

Buffy spun around and shoved him, hard, onto the driveway. "Spike, when are you going to get it? I'm not interested and I never will be. Now just leave before the neighbors decide to have you arrested for disturbing the peace."

"You and I certainly disturbed the peace a month ago, didn't we, Buffy?" Spike let a slow ugly smile steal across his face as he stood up again. She wasn't turning her back on him, not this time. 

"If you're talking about the singing and dancing, believe me, I'm doing my best to put that out of my mind. That was _not_ your finest hour."

"No, you stupid bint! I'm talking about the sex you and I had in that abandoned building!"

Spike was gratified to see the stunned looks that appeared on all three girls' faces. Buffy was never good at hiding her feelings. Let her try to worm her way out of this in front of her friends.

Then they all burst out laughing.

"Oh man, Spike, I heard that blue balls could do funny things to a man's mind but I never knew it could create delusions!" Buffy choked.

"Yeah, Buffy, Spike must have had one of those sex dreams involving him and the Buffybot and thought it was you. Spike, you need to get a _real_ girlfriend instead of imaginary playmates," Willow chimed in.

"Come on, Buffy. You can't deny what we did!" Spike felt the whole situation was slipping out of his control. "You want me to tell your friends the noises you made? The marks on your body?"

"Spike, I know that you were spying on me for months and watching me while I slept. You stole pictures of me. Angel may even have described me to you back when he was Angelus. You probably know all about my body through other sources, so I don't think they'll be impressed," Buffy shot back. 

"What's going on, guys? Why are you all up?"

At the sight of her sister yawning and scratching in the doorway, Buffy's irritation turned to anger. "That's just great, Spike. Now you woke up Dawn."

"Actually, you all woke me up. What's Spike doing here?"

"Oh, Spike was just telling us what passionate sex he's having with Buffy," Tara said with a small smile.

"Yeah, and I was about to confess that I'm having a hot affair with Charlize Theron."

"Willow, no!"

"I'm sorry, Tara, I meant to tell you. Charlize and I met last month at the Bronze, we looked at each other and BOOM!! Love at first sight."

Once again, the girls dissolved into gales of laughter with Dawn joining in, giggling madly. Buffy wiped her eyes and turned to go into the house. "Look, Spanky, you've had your fun. Now go home before you embarrass yourself further."

Spike couldn't stand it. They were mocking him. They were _laughing_ at him. Him, William the Bloody! He made one last desperate attempt to retrieve his dignity and prove his case.

"I've got your panties, Slayer!" He yanked the aforesaid unmentionables out of his pocket and dangled them in the air. 

"Oh yeah, that's convincing," Dawn said critically. "It's not as if they've got "Buffy" stamped on them, is it?" 

Buffy also shook her head, unimpressed. "Nice try, loser. But you've probably still got my blue sweater." Just before she closed the door in his face, Buffy added, "And I want it back!"

Once again, Spike was left standing in a darkened doorway. And from behind the door, he could still hear the gales of laughter from the four females.

He staggered home, hardly able to believe it. Shamed and humiliated! Three times in one night! That was it, he was leaving this rotten town, he didn't care how much Buffy and the others begged him to stay, he was out of here!

[They're not going to beg you to stick around and you know it. What do they need you for now that Buffy's back?] But that wasn't true, he'd been of help to them before Buffy died. Look how much he'd helped with Dawn. [Ah yes, but that was mainly because of the Glory threat. She's gone and Buffy and the others can take care of Dawn just fine without you.] There it was again, that sly voice in his head that had been whittling away steadily at his self-esteem now for weeks. He'd been so certain that Buffy would realize that they were meant to be together, that she'd come running to him. But tonight proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Buffy was standing firm. She'd turned her back on him without the slightest sign of sorrow or loss. His only trump card, blabbing about their little time in the ruins, had been thrown back in his face.

Of course, the others didn't believe it. Why should they? After the Buffybot incident, his credibility in that department was at an all-time low. But how had Buffy been able to deny it so easily? There had been no flicker of emotion other than annoyance and amusement. She hadn't been embarrassed or ashamed. It was as if she'd just forgotten the whole incident.

Bugger. That was it. Her memory of it must have been erased. And if that was the case, that meant that Willow or Tara or both of the witches had helped her with a spell. That must mean that they knew about it! No, that wasn't right. There'd been no shock in either of the witches when he'd given the news. First surprise and then total amusement at his expense, but no unease at all.

Pushing his way into his crypt, Spike slumped against the door and shook his head. Something was going on. Since his tryst with Buffy, nothing had gone right for him. He'd been losing at kitty poker, no one would play him at pool and he was getting pounded by college kids, for Christ sakes! At this rate, he'd have to go back to scaring people for money.

Shuddering at the thought, Spike pulled off his leather duster. He winced at the aches just beginning to make themselves felt. He sniffed at the duster and dropped it in disgust. The Slayer was right, it reeked of the trash he'd been thrown into when those boys had had their fun with him. He'd have to get it cleaned and dry-cleaning leather always cost the earth. 

He couldn't worry about where he was going to get the money, though. Right now all he wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep the day away. These bruises weren't going to be nearly as much fun to recollect as the ones he got from his bout with Buffy. 

Back at home, Tara stared at the sleeping figure of the blonde Slayer critically. "Do you think Spike noticed anything, Willow?" she whispered.

"Nope. I think he was completely taken in," she smugly replied.

"Good. It's just…so bizarre."

"I know. But we only need to maintain the charade for a few days. Besides, I think he got the wind taken right out of his sails. He may not be back for a few days. That'll give Buffy time."

"What if she can't figure it out by then? What if he guesses?"

"We'll just have to keep up pretenses. If we say that everything's okey-dokey and he's the only one saying otherwise, who'll believe him? His stock isn't particularly high with us right now."

Tara sighed. "I hope so, Wills. This is pretty serious stuff."

Privately, Willow agreed. She hoped Buffy would find the answers she sought. And soon.

TBC


	3. Girl Power

Willow handled the package gingerly as she stepped into the Magic Box. She'd ordered it through their website and Anya had assured her the source was impeccable. She could hardly wait to show it to Buffy.

Buffy was in the back exercising with the punching bag and Willow paused to watch her. She was throwing fierce, hard jabs at it and the redhead could just imagine whose face Buffy was picturing in her mind.

"Buffy, good news!"

Buffy relaxed and stopped the swaying bag with one hand. "You found out why I'm Spike's favorite kick-me doll?"

Willow's face fell. "No, still no solid leads on that. Tara and I are going through as many relevant books in our spare time as we can find. But no Slayer's ever been brought back from the dead so we're just concentrating on resurrections in general. But I meant something about the keep-Spike-at-a-distance plan."

"Anything about that is good news. So what's the what?"

"You seem to rely on Spike for news about a lot of what's going on Sunnydale. You go running to him whenever Dawn's in trouble, too."

"Hey, I've been telling Dawn to behave and we won't need to see so much of Spike!"

"I know, Buffy, but sometimes things happen to Dawn that are just out of our control. That's just the Hellmouth at work and then we need Spike's help. But I think I've found a substitute for his Formerly-Big-Badness." She laid down the package and reverently unwrapped it.

"Oh. It's a—mirror." Buffy tried not to sound too disappointed, but she failed to see any reason for Willow's look of pride."

"It's not just any mirror, Buff. It's a scrying mirror." At Buffy's look of incomprehension, Willow explained. "Scrying mirrors are magical. They can be used to locate people and objects. All you do is look into it and concentrate on the person or thing you're looking for and it'll appear. Unless it's being hidden magically, somehow. Which doesn't usually happen. Anyway, why don't you ask it for Dawn?"

Privately, Buffy thought it sounded too much like the wicked stepmother's mirror in "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves." But if Willow said it worked, then she was willing to try anything to keep herself out of Spike's clutches.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall…just teasing, Wills." Buffy ducked a mock-punch Willow threw at her. "Okay, mirror, show me Dawn." 

The mirror stayed blank, only reflecting back Buffy's face.

"Um, Buff, you need to concentrate on the object of your search."

Buffy tried again, this time recalling the last time she'd seen Dawn. She'd been dressing for school and Buffy had caught her trying to sneak out wearing a skirt Buffy thought was way too short. There'd been a heated argument over it ("How can it be too short? It's one of yours!" "That's just it, Dawn, you're too young to be wearing skirts like that! And I didn't give you permission to be wearing my clothes!"). It had ended up with Dawn pulling off the offending garment, throwing it at her and storming out of the house in one of her longer dresses.

The mirror did nothing for a moment and then the surface appeared to fog over and dim. Buffy's image disappeared to be replaced seconds later by an image of Dawn. She was sitting in class and, by the bored look on her face, not paying too much attention to her teacher. 

Willow squealed in delight. "You see, Buffy, it works!" Buffy grinned in triumph. 

"So it does, Wills. You rule."

Willow puffed up, glad that Buffy was thrilled. She'd been racked with guilt whenever she thought of Buffy's predicament and how she'd somehow ruined Buffy's return to the land of the living. It was also wonderful to see Buffy truly happy about anything. Even if it wasn't real…

With more concentration, Buffy realized she could even hear the conversation of the various kids in the class. After more practice, she found she could make the image in the mirror move from Dawn to her immediate surroundings. She could see the blackboard, the other students, the teacher, even the scenery outside the class window. It was as if the mirror could "pan" around in any direction she wished. Now she could not only see Dawn if she went missing, she could also check to locate her whereabouts. 

The two girls grinned at each other. Who needed Spike the Wonder Dog?

"What should we look for next?" Buffy mused. Then she locked eyes with Willow whose face lit up with a similar look of recognition. "The diamond!" they chorused.

"Mirror, show us the diamond that was recently stolen from the Sunnydale museum." The mirror's surface fogged again and slowly cleared to reveal…blackness. The two girls frowned and concentrated harder. Still nothing.

"I don't understand," Willow murmured, "it worked fine a moment ago."

"Could the diamond be hidden in a box somewhere?"

She brightened. "That's it! It must be inside of something and the mirror's showing us the interior. We need to move outside of that space and get a clear view."

Buffy nodded and went back to staring at the mirror. She imagined the mirror as a camera lens that was slowly moving out of the box and around the surrounding area. The darkness retreated and she found herself staring at a miniature vault with a combination lock set into it. Then the view changed to that of…a basement? She could see a staircase leading upwards, various mechanical paraphernalia that didn't give her a clue as to their function or operation and what looked like lots of Star Wars toys carefully mounted on little pedestals. What kind of place was this?

"Buffy, I can see where the diamond must be. Let's get an address."

"Wait, Willow. I can hear voices." The girls continued to peer into the mirror as the voices got closer.

"I still think we should go after the components next."

"No, the magical implements are more important. I'll just go around to the shop…"

Buffy frowned. She _knew_ that voice. Where had she heard it before?

"We can't go there! The Slayer might see us. She's always hanging around that place!"

The girls started. They were talking about Buffy? They knew she was the Slayer? The two frowned worriedly at each other before resuming their inspection.

"So what? Then you can go. She doesn't know you, only the two of us. That way she won't think anything's out of the ordinary."

"What if Spike shows up? We've seen him there, too—AND in the daylight."

These guys knew Spike? What sort of evil creatures were they dealing with?

"He can't say anything without letting the others know he's been seeing us and I don't think he wants that."

"Yeah, he was really nervous about Warren telling anybody what he found out about the chip."

"No, YOU were nervous. I thought you were going to piss yourself when he threatened to break that Boba Fett doll."

"EXCUSE ME, it's not a doll. It's a figurine. And I didn't see you making any attempts to prove yourself a hero."

"Whatever. So we're agreed? We're going after the components."

"No, we're getting the magical herbs!" The owners of the voices came into view.

"Jonathan and Warren?!?" Buffy yelped. These were the guys who had the diamond? Jonathan looked pretty much as he'd last appeared to the girls. His two companions didn't dazzle either in the sartorial department. 

The boys plopped down onto a dilapidated sofa and began doling out hamburgers. "So now that we've got the diamond, when do we implement the next phase of the plan?" one boy mumbled around a mouthful of burger. Buffy quirked an eyebrow at Willow who shook her head. She didn't know him either.

"Tomorrow night. No sense in wasting time. I know for a fact the guys at the factory knock off early so they can hurry up with their Friday night drinking."

The boys sniggered and then the unknown started coughing, choking on his mouthful of food. Jonathan whined, "I still think we should get that powder I wanted. If we run into anybody, I can throw it at them and they'll fall asleep. They won't wake up for hours."

"We don't NEED the stupid powder. We'll just use the freeze gun again."

Jonathan scowled in protest. "Heck, no! You still haven't worked the bugs out of it, Warren. It took hours for me to gain back the circulation in my arm after the last time."

Warren assumed a slightly weary, pompous air. "I'm just trying to cut down on expenses here."

"We've still got plenty of money from the bank robbery, so don't come over us all cheap, Warren."

"Sure, we've got a lot of money now. But it won't last forever. Especially if Warren keeps spending it buying parts for all his dolls," the unknown snickered.

"They're not dolls, they're robots. _Your_ toys are dolls, Andrew," Warren hissed.

"They not dolls, they're limited-edition figurines!"

"Well, if you want to keep buying those 'figurines,' don't come whining to me when there's suddenly no more dough because Jonathan here blew it all buying kitchen spices."

"Magical herbs!"

As the conversation descended into petty bickering, the girls moved away from the mirror which settled back into its previous nondescript appearance. They shook their heads in disbelief. _These_ were the guys who'd robbed the museum? These small-town losers? Why? They couldn't fence that diamond, that was certain. Considering what had been taken from the bank, they certainly didn't need the money. And what was this mysterious plan?

"I don't believe it. Jonathan and Warren? What do they think they're doing? Are they supposed to be, like, some kind of supervillains? What's up with this plan thing? And how does Spike fit into it?"

"Buffy, what should we do? We can't wait for them to hit that plant, whatever it is."

"But we don't know what it is they're planning. They're not like demons. Their agendas are usually written up in those books Giles left behind. We don't have a clue what they're up to."

"Maybe the mirror can tell us more."

The girls moved back to it only to be met with disappointment. Jonathan and Andrew had left in the interim and all they saw was Warren puttering around in the basement. What came next caused both girls to stiffen in shock.

Warren touched some buttons on a panel and various screens began to glow. As they settled into clarity, Buffy and Willow could see scenes from around Sunnydale. The screens showed the Bronze, the interiors of the college the women attended and…the outside of Buffy's house. In fact, most of the images showed one viewpoint or other of the Summers' residence exterior. There were also shots of Willow's house, Xander's apartment and the Magic Box.

"Those little shits. They've been spying on us."

Buffy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "No. They've been spying on ME. I think they're the ones who were playing those mindgames on me with the demons that melted into goo, that time loop I was caught in and that period where time kept speeding up at school. Just wait 'til I get my hands on them. I'll teach them to screw with the Slayer."

"Wait, let's not get hasty, Buffy. We need to know what their plan is so we can stop it. We can't just go around randomly beating up civilians."

"This isn't random! These guys are specific targets!"

"We still need to know what they're up to."

"Well, it doesn't look as if we can learn that now that the others are gone. Maybe I should just get them to fork over the diamond. It sounds like it's essential to their plans. Without it, whatever they're trying for will probably collapse."

"But how do we keep them from doing it again? Why don't we just call the cops and tell them the boys have the diamond?"

"The cops can't search the place without a warrant. That takes time. Besides, cops can't just search citizen's homes without probable cause."

"So what do we do? Do we wait to learn more about their plan or grab the diamond tonight and take it back to the museum?"

"I'll get the diamond myself. Can you imagine Spike's face when he realizes we got to the bottom of this without his help?" Then she paused. "What I'd really like to know is why those guys decided to play fun and games with my head. I mean, I helped Jonathan and Warren. I saved Jonathan's life when he pulled that stupid spell that made him a superhero and the life of Warren's girlfriend! How can they be such ungrateful little pigs?"

Willow sighed. "Maybe we can ask them that when we go over there tonight and get that diamond."

Buffy smirked. "Now you're talking." Then she frowned. "Wait a minute, what do you mean, WE? It's just three geeks handing out in a basement like Wayne and Garth. After all the demons I've tangled with, I think I can handle the Three Stooges by myself." Buffy moved to the side of the training room and began to towel herself off.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Willow muttered to herself. She peered worriedly at the blonde Slayer. She was becoming more and more aggressive with every passing day. Something would have to be done soon before things got out of hand.

After more argument, Willow pointed out that Warren and his little band of freaks weren't like the demons Buffy had known. The boys obviously had some serious hardware at their command, and, unlike the demons, there was nothing written about them that could give the Slayer a clue about their capabilities. There'd been mention of a freeze gun. Who knew what else they had hidden away? The presence of a telekinetic wicca might give Buffy the edge and further intimidate the guys into coughing up the gem. ("What, you don't think the Slayer is intimidating enough?" had been Buffy's disbelieving reply to that argument.)

They prepared for going to Warren's house that night. Buffy had wanted to try breaking and entering but Willow thought the subtler approach might be better.

"Hi, ma'am. Is Warren home?"

"Oh, yes, I think he's in the basement. Uh, who are you two?"

"Warren didn't tell you? I'm his girlfriend, Willow, and this is Jonathan's girlfriend, Buffy."

"Oh my god! Warren's got another girlfriend? Why didn't he tell me? After the last one ran out on him, I didn't think…my goodness, come right on in!" The woman nearly fell over herself pulling both girls into the house. "You have no idea how _thrilled_ I am to see you! He was spending so much time with those two friends of his, I was starting to think he was gay!" She blinked and then backpedaled rapidly, "Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you, it's just…."

"Excuse me, are they all in the basement?"

"Oh yes, he's practically set up house down there. He throws a fit whenever I even suggest going downstairs. I tell him as long as he keeps it clean and I don't smell any suspicious odors wafting up from there, I won't 'invade his space.' But I'm sure he won't mind seeing you two. Well, I'll just leave you two to surprise the boys!"

"Oh, we're going to surprise them all right," Buffy murmured grimly.

Ignoring her suggestive wink, the girls moved towards the basement. Walking quietly down the stairs the girls could hear the boys arguing in raised voices.

"I'm telling you, it'll work. I've fixed it!"

"Fine! Then you won't mind giving it a test run."

"On what? I don't much fancy the idea of encasing any of the computer screens down here in ice, do you?"

"Well, I'm not using it again until I know it won't give me a case of frostbite."

"Boys, we hate to interrupt but we've come to see a man about a diamond."

The boys nearly leapt out of their skins. The Slayer was lounging against the railing at the bottom of the stairs and staring pointedly at the safe where the diamond was hidden.

"H-how did you…?"

"Your mother was kind enough to let us in. In fact, she was ecstatic. I take it you don't have many visitors of the female persuasion down here, huh, Warren?" Willow smirked at the boys' uncomfortable expressions.

Jonathan whispered frantically, "Warren, what do we do?"

"You hand over the diamond, that's what you'll do. Unless you want us to call your mother down here and show her how her son is playing Peeping Tom all over Sunnydale."

Warren paled and stammered, "Hey, we're not prying into anybody's homes. Those cameras are set up in public places!"

"Stow it, Warren. I know about the cameras you have outside my house. If I were to report you to, let's say the cops, I think they could get you on invasion of privacy. What you're doing is voyeurism and I'm sure there's a very good law against that. And that might give them reason to search your home and then they'd find out about that pretty little sparkler you've got in that safe of yours."

Warren squinted at the two. "So how come you haven't done it already? Why not call the cops if you're so sure of your ground, ladies?"

Willow sighed in an exaggerated fashion. "We were hoping to do this without sirens and publicity but we'll call them if we must. You boys aren't minors anymore, are you? I mean, we're talking grand larceny here, what with the bank robbery (and I'm sure you still have the cash from that in the vault, too) and that huge rock. This is time in big stir here. You think you boys can do prison time with big, sweaty inmates?"

Andrew let out a whimper. Warren glared at him. Then he let out a huge sigh. "Great. You win. If you'll just wait a moment, I'll get the diamond for you."

Jonathan yelped, "Are you crazy? After everything we went through, you're just going to hand it over?"

"Jonathan, I know when I'm licked. We've been defeated by a superior foe." Buffy rolled her eyes at the grandiose term, but Warren plowed on. "Now just _freeze_ there and I'll get the jewel."

Warren turned to the safe and began ostentatiously twirling the lock. Buffy moved behind him, watching his every move, while Willow eyed the other two boys.

Jonathan fidgeted. "So…how'd you girls figure out it was us?"

"We have our ways," Willow coolly replied.

"Is it because you're a witch?" Andrew chipped in then withered under Willow's glare.

"The word 'witch' has a lot of negative connotations and I _really_ resent its usage, so I'll kindly thank you to stop…."

"Got it!" Warren yelled. "Catch!" He tossed the diamond to Buffy who snagged it with one hand.

Things happened quickly after that.

Andrew, who'd just caught on to Warren's use of the word 'freeze,' snatched up the freeze gun and aimed it at Buffy. He blasted her with it but her Slayer reflexes made her dodge it easily. Willow's eyes turned black.

Completely black.

The gun flew out of Andrew's hands with enough force to shatter to pieces against the wall. Buffy kicked Warren hard in the crotch when he tried to grab back the diamond. He crumpled to the floor, squealing in pain, while Buffy stalked towards the other two boys. When she seized Jonathan by the throat, Willow yelled, "Buffy, stop! Forget them!"

The Slayer halted and lifted Jonathan effortlessly off the floor with her left hand. She looked between him and Andrew. "That was deeply stupid," she growled in a low furious tone.

"Look, Buffy, we got what we came for. Let's get out of here."

"That might be a problem, Willow." Buffy dropped Jonathan as if he were of no further interest to her and turned towards the witch. Willow gasped in dismay. It seemed as if Buffy hadn't managed to dodge the blast completely. Her right hand, still clutching the diamond, was completely encased in ice up to her shoulder. Buffy stared at it calmly as if the arm belonged to someone else.

"It's okay, Buffy. W-we'll just throw a coat over it." She scowled at Warren who still lay curled up in a ball on the floor. "Give her your jacket."

Warren still couldn't speak except in gasps and moans. Andrew yanked up a jacket and threw it at them. "Here! Take it. Just take it and get out!"

"Don't give us orders, you little turd, or you're next," Buffy glared.

Andrew's mouth shut with a snap and he shrank back against Jonathan. Willow arranged the jacket carefully over Buffy's shoulders, hiding the icebound limb as best she could. She paused at the bottom of the stairs and turned back to the boys. The terrible trio, who'd just begun to relax, stiffened at her next words.

"By the way, we're going to be dismantling the cameras you've got in front of our homes. Whatever it is you were planning, I suggest you drop it, leave Buffy alone and get yourselves real jobs." She paused just a little bit for effect and then glanced at Warren's screens.

The boys heard only a small whine as a warning, then the consoles and screens began to smoke and sizzle. Warren wailed in dismay as, one by one, each screen blew and shattered, spraying them with shards of glass and plastic fragments. Cowering amidst the wreckage, they heard Willow's final words cut through the smoke like knives.

"Don't make us come back here."

And with that, Buffy and Willow left the supervillains to clean up their mess.

TBC


	4. Will the Real Slim Shady Please Stand Up...

Tara watched the screen with unblinking eyes, absolutely riveted by the interplay between the characters. "This is a great movie."

Xander stifled a yawn. "I would have preferred Rush Hour. Something with a little action, you know?"

"I like romance films. They put me in the mood for sex," Anya responded. 

Xander blinked rapidly and hastily replied, "Well, now that you mention it, there _is something to be said for chick flicks, I suppose."_

Dawn giggled. "Yeah, you get to look at beautiful women smooch. And that Hugh Grant is such a hottie."

"You think so?"

"Totally, Tara. That tall, beautiful body, that English accent. He's got it all going on for him. No wonder Elizabeth Hurley is so crazy about him."

"English accent, huh?"

Dawn blushed under Tara's knowing stare. "Well, maybe not the accent so much. But it _is kind of sexy, don't you think?"_

Tara pretended to consider it. "Maybe you're right. It certainly helps that roommate of his get laid."

"Ewwww, he's wrinkled, scruffy, ugly and that T-shirt was disgusting!"

Tara laughed, "I know. I'd rather think about Julia Roberts though she's a little skinny in this movie for my taste."

"Tara, please! What would Willow think if she heard you?"

"Well, it would serve her right! Sneaking out behind my back with Charlize Theron!"

The two girls dissolved in laughter, while Xander and Anya glanced at each other and shrugged in puzzlement.  Suddenly the phone rang in the hall. "I'll get it!" Dawn cried as she bounded up. "Hi, what's up?"

There was a moment of silence and then a familiar voice came on the line. "Oy, Little Bit. Is your sister there?"

"No, Spike, she's not here. She's out patrolling with Willow."

"Willow! She's gone out with the witch and not me?"

"Well, after that scene you made here the other night, can you blame her?"

"That wasn't my fault. I was a little drunk…."

"Aha! I knew it! You told Buffy that you'd been rescuing virgins but you were really at a bar, weren't you? Wait 'til I tell her!"

"Look, she doesn't need to know about that! I mean…oh bollocks, I don't care if you tell her or not. In fact, I'll tell her myself. Where did she and the witch go?"

"As if they'd tell me. They never tell me anything. Just wander around. I'm sure you'll bump into them." Dawn hung up the phone and flounced back to plop down in front of the tv set.

"Who was that?" Xander mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn.

"Nobody. Just Spike playing follow-the-bouncing-Buffy. Did I miss anything?"

"The roommate just caught Julia in the bathtub."

"Oh, yuck!"

Spike wandered around the cemeteries one more time. Just another sweep and then he was heading home. He'd taken off and put on his duster half a dozen times before going into the night. He tried to tell himself it didn't matter if he met up with the Slayer. If she could stay away from him, he could stay away from her. If he met her on patrol, he'd just treat her with the same chilly contempt she'd shown him.

But somehow he wound up in front of her house, just like always. How wretched was this? The Big Bad once again reduced to hanging out longingly at the door of a girl who didn't want him. It seemed as if, in spite of the sex, Buffy would never love him. She'd hidden behind her friends, laughed in his face and treated the entire episode as if it had never happened. He, on the other hand, couldn't stay away and he couldn't get any closer.

Suddenly, he spotted two figures stumbling towards the front door—Buffy and Willow. He frowned. Something was wrong. Buffy wasn't moving with her usual confident stride. In fact, she almost appeared to be in pain. Stepping out of the shadows, he did his best to appear nonchalant as he walked behind the two girls. "Evening, ladies. Lovely night for a stroll. Mind if I join you?"

"Get lost, Spike. We're not in the mood for another round of scandal-mongering," Willow hissed angrily.

Spike ignored her as if she hadn't spoken. "Come on, Buffy. The night's young. Let's see if we can find some vampires to vanquish and demons to demolish. No need to bring your little friend if she's not feeling up to it."

Buffy said nothing. She just leaned heavily against Willow as the red-haired girl struggled to hold her and press the doorbell at the same time. Spike peered closely at her even though Buffy shrank from his scrutiny. "What's wrong with you, pet? Did you get into a scrape tangling with the demonic beasties all on your own? That's why you should let old Spike pitch in. I'm sure I could have been a lot better help than Red here."

The door swung open before either girl could reply. Tara stared, aghast, as Willow heaved Buffy over the doorstep. Spike sniffed tentatively. Finding only a faint whiff of garlic, he tried to follow only to be repelled by the barrier erected days before. He pounded against it in impotent fury and yelled, "Okay, that's it! You bints aren't shutting me out this time. Dawn! Dawn! Let me in! Your sister needs help!"

Xander, Anya and Dawn came running. Dawn cried out in shock at the sight of her sister, pale and shaking. "Oh my god! Buffy!"

Willow hastened to reassure her. "It's okay, Dawn. Buffy just got into a bit of trouble on patrol. It's nothing that a little rest can't fix."

Before Dawn could reply, the phone rang. Tara said, "I'll get it. Dawn, you should stay with Buffy." She picked up the phone and said distractedly, "Summers' residence. Who is it?" She stiffened as she listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. "Wait a moment, I'll get Willow."

She called out to Willow who had carefully seated Buffy on the couch. "Willow, you should get the phone. It's very important."

"Can't it wait? Buffy needs help."

"It's that call we were expecting."

Willow's head shot up at that almost whispered statement. She glanced down, gnawing her lip at the silent Slayer. "Just wait here a moment until I get back. Okay?" Buffy gazed blankly at her then nodded slowly.

Willow picked up the phone. "Hello? Yes, Dawn's here. Spike's here, too. Oh yeah, she's here." She paused, listening intently to the voice on the other end. "Right. See you soon." She hung up and walked back to the living room. Only then did she become aware that Spike had been yelling incessantly in the background since she'd arrived with Buffy.

"Oy, are you bints letting me in or not? Look, I've been coming here all summer. You've got no right keeping me out like this. I promised Buffy I'd take care of Dawn."

Willow scowled at him. "And you did that beautifully, Spike. But lately all you seem to think or care about is Buffy. We've been taking care of Dawn while you've been gallivanting around town, getting into bar fights."

"Stalking after my sister," Dawn flatly interjected.

Willow chimed in, "Getting drunk."

"Causing scenes."

"And behaving like a total wanker," Dawn ended, wrinkling her nose in Spike's direction.

Buffy called out to the vampire. "Oh, I can tell you've been a real positive influence on her, Spike!"

Tara chided them. "Guys, can we save the blamefest for later? Buffy needs help." Everybody's attention focused back on the Slayer. She had leaned back until she almost reclined on the couch. Warren's jacket had slipped off revealing the ice that still lay over her arm like a plaster cast.

"Willow, what happened? Did she run into that ice demon that robbed the museum?"

"Something like that, Anya. Look, guys, there's something I have to tell you…."

"Hello, Spike."

Everybody froze at the sound of that voice. Buffy walked calmly into the house and stared at the girl lying on the sofa.

Willow sighed in relief. "Hi, Buffy. Welcome back."

The others gazed at the Buffy coming through the front door as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Everyone except Dawn and Spike. The younger Summers girl glared at him. "Oh, I see what's been going on. You had Warren build you another Buffybot. _That's_ why you've been hanging around her, isn't it?"

Before Spike could answer, the standing Buffy gazed calmly at him and said, "Come in, Spike."

Spike had been leaning against the invisible barrier staring at her in stunned amazement. When the barrier was suddenly removed, he was caught by surprise and fell into the house. The tension broke and everybody laughed out loud as he struggled up, entangled in his long duster.

"That's what I like about Chips Ahoy. He's such a graceful man."

He flipped Xander a two-fingered salute and slammed the door shut. He looked between the two Buffys. "Neither of them is a 'bot. I can tell that much. They've both got heartbeats and pulses." He peered at the one on the couch. "_She seems a bit off, though."_

"That's because she's not the real Buffy." Tara's calm statement rendered Spike speechless as he stared at her. 

Willow drew a piece of paper out of her pocket and whispered, "Ignis." The paper caught fire and in moments burnt down to ashes.

The Buffy on the couch remained motionless for just a second. Then her skin began to darken, turning gray, then black. Her hair became ashen, her eyes dulled. Her figure seemed to sag imperceptibly and then, with only the faintest whisper of sound, she collapsed into a shapeless heap of dirt. The only things that remained were her clothes, Warren's jacket and the diamond that lay winking in the clods.

Willow cringed at the dirty mess. "Oops, sorry, Buffy. I should have waited until we got it outside. Don't worry, I know a magic spell that'll get the dirt right out."

Dawn stared in total horror at the remains of the _thing_ that had been Buffy. Xander grabbed the diamond out of the mess and said, "Cool, Willow! You didn't tell me this thing came with prizes inside! Just like a box of Cracker Jacks. I take it this is the diamond that everybody's been searching for?"

Willow plucked the jewel out of Xander's hands. "That it is. We picked it up tonight from Warren's place. It turned out he and his two friends had nabbed the diamond in some stupid scheme they had going. When we tried to get it back, one of them zapped the fake-Buffy with a freeze gun. You would have loved it, Xander. It was like something out of Batman." 

"It was Warren?" Spike blurted out. His blue eyes turned icy. "But he wasn't the one who made this…thing, was he?"

"Nope. This was my own idea after I brought Buffy back."

"You all knew about this, didn't you. And you didn't tell me." At the harsh accusation from Dawn, Willow turned apologetic eyes towards her.

"Dawn, you have to understand. After Buffy came back, she was so distant, depressed and strange. We all thought that maybe a little time away from Sunnydale was what she needed. So when Angel called…"

"That ponce? What the hell does that nancyboy have to do with this? And when did he call, anyway?" Spike snarled.

"It was over eight weeks ago. Buffy decided to go up to Los Angeles to see him. He'd been to Hell…."

"….and I'd been to Heaven. It seemed as if we finally had something in common." Buffy smiled ironically.

"She's been with him ever since then. Healing and catching up with him," Tara finished.

Spike shook his head. "And this walking compost heap you created? What was it?"

"A golem. I created it using dirt from Buffy's grave, some of her hair, fingernail clippings and her blood. She was so well made with the magicks, she actually believed she was Buffy. It's another reason the real Buffy had to leave. Unlike the Buffybot, the fake would never have accepted another version of herself." 

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!?" Dawn screamed.

Buffy reached out for her sister, who backed away, clenching her fists. "Dawn, it was my idea not to tell you. I didn't want you to think that I was going away and leaving you for good, not when I'd just come back to you."

He felt as if the world were whirling around him. Ever since she'd invited him into the house, she'd barely glanced at him. Now he felt as if he couldn't stand it any longer. "You mean, you've been in L.A. for two whole months and you didn't tell…her?" [Me. She didn't tell ME. I was kept out of it, too. They'd all known and hadn't told me.] 

Then something clicked. Two months. That meant that he'd…

"You're telling me I had sex with…THAT?" Spike looked away in revulsion and loathing at the dirtpile on the couch only to meet the disbelieving stares of the others.

"Woah, Spike, you mean when you came here and made that scene, you were telling the truth? You had sex with the fake-Buffy?" Willow's smile did nothing to hide the faint tinge of malice behind it.

"We thought you were just kidding when you said that. You know, stirring up mischief the way you usually do when you're bored," Tara added with a sympathetic look.

Xander snorted and then laughed out loud. "Man, Spike, you really know how to pick 'em. Let's see, so far your known tally of girlfriends includes Drusilla the Loon, Harmony who gives dumb blondes a bad name, that sex toy Buffybot and now a claymation figure. Why don't you just buy blow-up dolls like other pathetic single men do?"

"Wait a minute!" Dawn cried. "I remember her telling me Spike was hitting her. She didn't mention any sex." 

Buffy squinted at Spike. "You hit me? I mean, her?"

Willow wrinkled her brows. "She must have done what the real Buffy would have done. She was ashamed of having sex with Spike so she hid the truth from us."

Spike stared at Buffy—the real Buffy. "I don't believe it."

"That she would be ashamed of sleeping with you? Believe it, tiger," Xander crowed. "You're not the kind of boy a girl brings home to meet the parents."

"No, I don't believe that I slept with that dirt clod over there." He strutted over to Buffy, deliberately invading her space. "I don't think you were in L.A. for two months. You ran home, told your friends and cooked up this elaborate charade to fool me." 

Buffy gave him a disinterested look. "Now why would we go to all that effort for you, Spike?"

"Because you couldn't handle the truth. You wanted me, Slayer, and you gave in to it. You didn't want to believe that you could possibly be attracted to me for even a second so you're all trying to make me think it didn't happen. But there's no way I'd be fooled into mistaking lumps of dirt for you."

"That doesn't look like it from where we're standing, Dye Boy. If there's anything we've learned, it's that you're real comfortable accepting stand-ins for the genuine article.

"This from a man who's about to marry a demon who spent eleven centuries torturing men. Talk about poor romantic choices," Spike sneered.

"Hey, at least my girlfriend's sane! And flesh and blood!" Xander retorted.

"Hold it. Let's back up a minute." Buffy rounded on Spike. "What was that Dawn said about your hitting the fake-me?"

"That's right. And it wasn't a fake, it was the real you, so you can cut the crap, luv." He plopped down on the couch, deliberately pushing off some of the dirt onto the floor. "I found out I could hit Buffy, we started pounding on each other…and then we started pounding on each other, if you get my meaning," he gave a shark-toothed grin and continued. "Willow brought Buffy back with something missing and it made her less than human. She's not batting for homo sapiens anymore."

Willow sighed, "Spike, we've told you. Of course, you were able to hit Buffy because it wasn't Buffy. It was the golem. She may have thought she was Buffy—that's why you were fooled. But the fact is, she was a magical creation. That's how you could hit her without getting zapped."

Buffy interrupted. It was obvious the conversation was going nowhere fast and she was determined to resolve it. "Look, there's one way to settle this." She turned to Spike. "Hit me."

The blonde vampire was taken aback. She wanted him to hit her? In front of the others?

"Come on. Take one good swing at me. That'll prove whether it was me you were with. Or that." She gestured to the clods slowly falling off the couch. 

Spike got up and walked over to her. "Right then." He cocked back his fist and hesitated. The others were staring, waiting for him to make his move. Dawn was glowering at him with a tight expression around her mouth. Buffy alone appeared to be calm. She stood in front of him without a trace of fear or apprehension. There was none of the old antagonism, no anger, no irritation. She radiated peace and contentment.

And she reeked of Angel.

The smell of him was all over her. Her hair, her clothes, her very skin was imbued with his scent. She'd been in L.A., for two months or two weeks, he couldn't tell. But she'd been with him. She'd gone racing off to see him at the drop of a phone call and he'd been rolling around obliviously in the arms of another substitute. Xander was right. He _was_ pathetic.

No! He refused to think that. It was all a trick and he'd prove it with one blow. His fist flashed out and caught her on the jaw, causing her to reel back and then…..

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH SHIT! BLOODY HELL!" There it was, the agony sizzling through his skull, setting his brain on fire. It caught him off guard and sent him crashing to the floor. Gripping his head, he looked up through fiercely blinked-back tears at the faces of the Scoobies. Various expressions ranging from glee to barely concealed pity showed up on their countenances.

"Well, that's that. I'd say we've had enough excitement for one night." Buffy moved towards the stairs without a backward glance and started making her way upstairs.

"Xander, can we go home now? All this talk about sex with dolls and toys has given me some ideas." Xander pulled his fiancée quickly out of the house, muttering under his breath about personal issues and contributing to the delinquency of minors. 

Dawn, Willow and Tara glanced down at Spike who was slowly climbing to his feet. Willow yawned, "If that was all, Spike, I guess you can go now. We're all really tired and you probably want to go out looking for—what was it you said?—demons to demolish, vampires to vanquish? I'd go with you, but I'd probably just get in your way."

Dawn glared at him before turning away. "Asshole. You hit Buffy. You really know your way to a girl's heart, don't you?"

Spike yelled up at the retreating girls. "This isn't over, Slayer! I know you and the witches did something! This is all some kind of trick and I'm getting to the bottom of it!"

"Whatever, Spike. Close the door on your way out, all right?" Buffy called down.

Spike stood for a moment, swaying with indecision. He kicked off the remaining dirt and ground it into the rug. He felt a brief surge of malicious satisfaction and then he deflated with defeat. He'd been made a royal fool of, but he couldn't figure out how it had been done. How could those bunch of misfits have pulled a fast one on him, of all people? He stomped out of the house, slamming the door viciously.

The girls watched him leave from an upper-story window. When he was safely out of sight, they started whooping with delight. Dawn bounced up and down, crowing, "And the Oscar for Best Actress goes to Dawn Summers, formerly known as the Key, most recently known as Little Bit!"

Buffy, Tara and Willow smiled indulgently at her. "Great performance, Dawnie. A definite A for effort. When you started screaming, though, I thought you were overdoing it a little. But otherwise, it was perfect." 

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Everyone's a critic."

Buffy yawned a little and flopped onto her bed. "Guys, I know you have a lot of questions about L.A. but can it wait until tomorrow? I'm really beat."

"Buffy, wait. Was it true—what Spike said? I mean, about having sex with you?

Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Ewww, no, Dawn! I am not having sex with Spike. It's just like Willow said. I've been in L.A. with Angel for two whole months. When I supposedly came back after being resurrected, that's when the switch was made. I'm sorry we didn't tell you, but we had to be certain to fool Spike. He was spending more time with you than anyone else. We weren't sure you could put up as convincing an act as everybody else."

"But if it were true, you'd tell me, right?" 

"Oh sure, Dawn. That's just the sort of thing I'd discuss with my little sister. Come on, I didn't tell you about having sex with Riley, did I?"

"As if I didn't know about that. Besides, that's different. Riley's human. Maybe you'd be ashamed about telling me about sex with Spike, like Willow said."

"If I refused to tell you about sex with Spike, it'd be because it _was_ shameful and there's be no love involved, not because he's a vampire. I wasn't ashamed about sex with Angel. Even though that turned out rather badly. Anyway, I'm tired from my trip and I really need some sleep."

"But Buffy…what about L.A.? How were things between you and Angel?"

"GOODNIGHT, Dawn."

"God, nobody tells me anything around here!" Dawn tossed her hair and stalked sullenly from the room.

Closing the door on her sister's protests, Buffy threw herself down on the bed again. "Home, sweet home," she murmured. Opening one eye, she realized Willow and Tara were still standing expectantly by the bed. "What?":

[BUFFY, WESLEY DID IT, DIDN'T HE? HE FOUND OUT WHAT WAS WRONG WITH YOU AND FIXED IT?] the red-head conveyed, mindful of listening ears.

[NO, HE DIDN'T, WILLS.]

[B-BUT, WE ALL SAW, SPIKE GOT MAJORLY HURT WHEN HE TRIED TO HIT YOU.] Tara frowned in confusion.

[YEAH, BUT THAT WASN'T BECAUSE I GOT 'FIXED' AS WILLOW PUTS IT. WESLEY RAN TEST AFTER TEST. HE SAYS THAT I'M _DIFFERENT ALRIGHT, BUT HE COULDN'T FIGURE OUT HOW. HE RAN SO MANY BLOOD TESTS I FEEL LIKE A HUMAN PINCUSHION. THEY SHOWED UP AS NORMAL. HE RAN MAGICAL TESTS. YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE THE DISGUSTING STUFF I HAD TO DRINK AND EAT. ZOO ANIMALS WOULDN'T TOUCH THIS JUNK. IT WAS NO GO. ALL HE COULD TELL WAS THAT I'M NOT QUITE LIKE OTHER PEOPLE. BUT WHETHER THAT HAS TO DO WITH THE RESURRECTION OR BECAUSE I'M A SLAYER IS A MYSTERY. IN THE END, HE WAS STUMPED.]_

[SO WHAT HAPPENED TO SPIKE?] Tara queried.

[I TOLD WESLEY ABOUT THE BUFFY-BASHING PROBLEM AND HE CAME UP WITH A NIFTY SOLUTION. HE TOOK THAT SKULL RING SPIKE GAVE ME AND USED IT TO BIND SPIKE WITH MAGIC. AS LONG AS THAT CHIP IS IN HIS HEAD, HE'LL SUFFER EXCRUCIATING PAIN WHENEVER HE TRIES TO HURT ME AND WON'T BE ABLE TO TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THAT AND ANY OTHER ATTEMPTS TO HURT HUMANS.]

Willow grinned at Buffy. [BOY, THAT RING IS GETTING A LOT OF USES, ISN'T IT?] 

Buffy couldn't help it. She felt a slow smile tugging at her own face. [IT SURE IS. AND SPIKE IS NONE THE WISER. HE THINKS HE HAD SEX WITH A DIRTPILE. IT'S GOING TO BE A LOT OF FUN RUBBING HIS FACE IN THAT. HE'LL NEVER LIVE IT DOWN.] 

The girls fell onto the bed, hugging Buffy between them. Then Buffy decided to talk again. "So….tell me about what's been happening since I've been gone? Anything interesting I should know about?

Willow looked questioningly at her. "I thought you were tired." 

Buffy shrugged, "I just wanted to get rid of you-know-who. Come on, spill."

"Well, I cooked up a spell that had Spike losing at cards. He also can't get people to play him at pool. Every time he asks them, they get this feeling of major distrust. So, no players. Oh, and Anya called in a favor with a local wish demon she used to know back in her vengeance days. She came up with Bleached Blonde night at the Bronze."

Buffy's eyebrows shot almost up to her hairline. "Bleached Blonde night? I bet Spike _hated that. Tell me more."_

Finis


End file.
